


Torrent

by larkingstock



Series: prompt nonsense [6]
Category: Sanam Teri Kasam
Genre: (Not Actually Unrequited Love), Bollywood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Unrequited Love, canon-typical angst, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 09:30:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14912828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larkingstock/pseuds/larkingstock
Summary: Just a very slight further-teasing-out of the "honeymoon" scene (Tera Chehra).





	Torrent

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: **unrequited love**
> 
> Yep, still trying to make this "writing" thing happen :/ Man, if ever a scene ever called for like **50x** more of itself--but sometimes 300-odd words will have to do.
> 
>  
> 
> The prompt nonsense series: the ongoing travails of one anon's quest to reacquire their errant writing mojo, with no guarantee of consistency, continuity, compliancy, or character appreciation.

He tried. He tried _so goddamn hard_ , but he can't say no. He can't ever say no.

Never to her.

Not to her, wet and bedraggled under the heat of his body as she drags him down onto her, upon her bereft honeymoon bed. Not to her welling eyes full of trust and heartbreak and pleading for this, heedless and needing. Not to the sure knowledge that if he does this for her, if he presses himself to her like a tourniquet and daubs his kisses to her like a balm, the wounds of her heart could never forgive him in the morning for taking this liberty of what he so terribly desires.

He _knows_ he can't say no, and still he tries, desperately, not to ruin her with his touch, with his intimacy, even as he kisses a wayward tear from her cheek as he's ached to do from the first time he saw her hurt. Even as her eyes soften with acceptance, with the hurt _his_ rejection now put there, her fingers tracing his face with still so much tenderness, this impossible, haunting sweetness of her, and he can't bear it any longer.

He lets himself kiss her blood-red bridal fingertips. Lets himself lace their hands together, lets himself look into the startled smile of her eyes, and slowly lower his lips to hers, lets his heart pound with the promise of it. Lets it be the promise of everything he has, unwanted and unsuitable, because he cannot stop himself.

_I'm yours, I'm yours,_ as he frees the sodden snare of her sari, as he bares her pebbling skin by each precious inch and warms her cool shivering to hot desire with his hands and mouth and body, _I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours. Please, god, let me be yours._ He can't stop it any more than he can say no, and as he makes her come for the first time, his name spilling from her lips, he lets himself believe just for a moment that it means _yes_.


End file.
